Attempting to make it as a writer

Posts tagged ‘john o’groats’

Back in Fort William at the very beautiful Dalchreggan House. The house looks out over the sea and again tactically I had re-opened the curtains after Sexy Sporty Dad had closed them last night.

Yes I did say Sexy Sporty Dad; he is with me this morning and as I glance from my bed I can see my running clothes beside my overnight case laid out in readiness.

I could go and run along the coast with the breeze tagging gently at my hair. I could breath in the fresh Scotish Air one more time leaving Sexy Sporty Dad to sleep in and wake up all alone, wondering where I had gone. Or I could sit here in my bed and watch the sun wake up the world; in particular the sea with the mountains in the background. The windows are open and I can taste the salt in the air as the fresh sea breeze seeps into my room and tussles my already tousled hair.

Well that is one question you will never know even if you read the book.

I am afraid yesterday was about one thing and one thing only; John O’Groats. I checked out of the hotel and pretty much raced to John O’groats. As I left the breakfast table I had received a text to tell me he had just arrived at Pit Stop 2 and only had 30 miles to go ‘cold and windy, want it to end now’

As if I would allow him to stop now! I told him I would meet him when he got to John O’Groats. I was able to send some more good wishes from Facebook friends I had picked up that morning, plus another large dose of my own good luck wishes.

For the only time on this trip, it was important for me to get to the arrival venue first. I checked with the ever faithful Sat Nav, we had 86 miles about 1 ½ hours journey to reach the rendezvous.

I did it!

I drove all the way, 1145 miles from Lands End to John O’Groats with a map and a Sat Nav; Thelma without her Louise. Ellen MacArthur without her crew and Amelia Earhart with only her plane.

I met people along the way, but always carried on alone. I investigated places on the map and I took a 9 day journey of discovery about me.

I have plotted and woven stories and ideas to be fleshed out in a novel during NANOWRIMO this November. I have explored places that will not be woven but held important meaning or interesting facts for me.

And I have discovered that I am an amazing person too. Don’t underestimate me…. The power, determination and enthusiasm I can put to a project is just as staggering as the physicality of the honed athlete.

But of course it has not been about me. The reason I have taken this journey is because Sexy Sporty Dad had begun a

challenge some long months ago possibly even years when he took up regular Saturday morning cycling. Was that where the idea came; I know for a fact I did not plant the seed.

I arrived as 12 riders had come through and hoped he had not pushed himself too much and got there before me. No text so I felt I was ok. Camera in hand and smile upon my face I wheedled my way through the growing band of supporters to the barriers just over the finish line and waited.

800 odd riders still to come over the line, it is not easy to see who they are until they are close enough to read the number on their bikes. They all wear similar lycra and Sexy Sporty Dad had not let me know which of the kit I had been washing over the week in my hand basins and baths he would choose to wear.

My wait was not a long one as he came in about 61st over the line, this of course would be amended when the results of all came in and there may be others who left after him and will come in a little later. A build-up of emotional pride as he came through the inflatable finish, the threatened rain must have drizzled at that point as I felt damp cheeks while I clicked the moment.

He has ridden 970 miles (he obviously took the short cut), 9 days up mountain and down dale, blazing sun and pouring rain and he has been true to the torture and camped every night when most nights there was a spare space in luxury just nearby.

The physical effort has been phenomenal. It was all a bit bewildering and surreal as he came through the finish line and received his medal. The ‘I done it’ medal, that no doubt will decorate our house and conversations for months to come.

After a shower and cup of soup, he appeared nearly normal. He was far better than I expected him to be and even the saddle sore did not prevent him sitting in the passenger seat to help me learn how to drive the car! It was going to be emotional this journey back, I knew about the twists and turns and high cliff edges I was about to take him. I also know from long experience he is a hopeless passenger, nervous, fiddling and finicky.

We eventually reached Inverness as the rain finally caught up with us and dusk began to settle. We found the Cinnamon Restaurant not only open on a Sunday night, they were serving a buffet style eat as much as you could meal.

Back on the road again we travelled along the side of Loch Ness, I met a young deer waiting to cross the road, dusk had definitely fallen and darkness enveloped the car,. As I came round the corner my lights reflected her eyes standing in all her glory. Thankfully she did not step out but there no chance of a photo; by the time I had swung the car out to overtake her, the moment was gone and so was she back into the trees.

Further down the Loch as I pressed on towards our bed for the night a creature ran across the road in front of us. Was it a fox? No we knew it was not a fox. Was it an otter? All the signs say beware of otters. Or was it a baby loch ness monster being called home by its mother after an evening’s exploring. Will we ever know?

The other man in my life at the moment my hero Matthew, a determined, challenged and highly fit young man , who does that remind you of, also made it, Now he has reached the very top of Britain, there are not many opportunities for him to carve out a life for himself. He may have to find another challenge or learn to grow old gracefully running a tea shop for visitors, few and far between in the 1700s. NANOWRIMO is not so far away only 6 weeks, you will have to read the book then to find out what he does.

The results came in once all the cyclists came over the line and of course every single one of them is a hero and successful but Sexy Sporty Dad’s place today was an incredible 74th, out of all those guys and some incredible girls (don’t even go there) who completed the Deloittes Ride across Britain 2015.

What have I learned today; Behind every man reaching his goal – there really is a supportive, determined, and caring wife.

Sporty Sexy Dad is attempting to achieve his goal of cycling the whole of britain. Being the dutiful wife I dropped him off at Lands End and I will meet him again in 9 days time at John o’Groats to bring him gently home. Thankfully he has joined an organised ride with Deloittes Ride Across Britain. He has his own tent each night along with 900 other people, his luggage is carried to the next venue and there is plenty of food, hot water for showers, electrics for chargers and medical backup.

With an eye on NANOWRIMO I have decided to research my next novel, so am looking historically at the British Isles in order to create the story for November. I hope to get the opportunity to do a very short daily blog of my journey weaving marital support, historical research and personal insight as I follow the cyclists up through the country.

This will be a varied and note like format as I explore the areas. I am dictating on the move and will upload as I am able to access wifi.

‘So I have just run or more accurately walked from Sennen Cove to Lands End. Well I took at least one wrong turn and got lost, ending up in a field. Leapt over a fence, well not quite leapt; it was a barbed wire fence and I ended it by falling, landing very undignified on my behind. I am now on the correct path back from Lands End to Sennen cove and my hotel. I arrived at Lands End at 7.45 just in time to see the last 2 riders being waved off. Apparently the other 900 odd had already left.

I am following a fairly good footpath (modern times), which appears to have been hewn through the huge boulders either side. These are probably what made up the road in the 1740s!

It is quite deserted. I can see a couple approaching me with a dog so I better not appear to be talking to my phone. I was passed on the way by a cyclist, not one from the Deloittes ride and then met a chap with his son walking along the path, he looked keener than the son who wandered behind, far enough not to lose his father but enough to make the statement “I don’t want to be here”

It is very deserted, very bleak and it is not raining but overcast . But if you picture this in the 1740s; it would be very lonely, not a very nice place at all. It would have been a very inhospitable place for a young boy.

It is not too bad a foot path, a few little inclines hence most of the walking. I know my destination is Sennen Cove which is all down hill now via a steep cliff but that keeps me going.’

Last night the cyclists arrived at base camp, lots of noise, lots of incredible organisation. Tents all pitched and we were shown to Sexy Sporty Dad’s tent, shown where to to get food. He was given his chip so they can monitor where he is all the time. I still haven’t worked that out, if I had I might have got there before he left. Having settled him I left him going off for supper and a briefing before a rather nervous nights sleep I guess. I did manage to text him good luck this morning.

‘I am going to go back to my hotel which is probably about 2 1/2 miles as I drove but apparently only 1.8 miles this route. It feels an awful lot longer.

The heather is phenomenal up here and the colours, the leaves are starting to turn brown some not yet there. Some gorgeous orange flowers, don’t know what they are but the blackberries are out and many ripe. There is a bit of a breeze thankfully because I am starting to feel hot.

Do you know, it is very quiet; there are no birds to speak of. I can hear the sea, I can hear the rustle of the wind going through the bracken crackling.

Well that’s incredible I turned the corner back towards the cove and suddenly there are five no six of them. Gulls, the cacophony of their screaming is such a contrast to before. I can hear the wind now and see the beach which is still a little way away. Even the smell up here is fresh, there is nothing modern, no diesel not even any cows or sheep; it is just fresh with a slight hint of salt on the tongue, the wind is just brushing my face as I walk towards it. Not cold at all just a tickle of fresh sea air.

Back to my hotel and the smell of bacon frying, and the sound of cleaners hoovering and a queue waiting to check out.’